Songs from the Birdcage: A ChiChi Story
by Gilded Blue
Summary: They've had a pretty hard time since a man fell from the sky, telling Goku all sorts of strange and bizarre things that turned out to be true. But this time he was leaving and he knew it was for good. Enduring his presence knowing this was... oppressive.


**Songs from the Birdcage: A ChiChi Story**

She ran her hands down her hips, a sigh passing through her lips. Her bent head refused to meet the naked image of herself in the mirror. The years passed quickly, and then slowly, and then quickly again, but the part of her that was uncomfortable with her naked body was frozen in time.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

The endless sound of the clock drove her mad; the little click of the second hand was as familiar as it was eerie. There was also something endless about the look in her husband's eyes when he stepped into the room. The seconds passed on next to a photo on the nightstand by the bed.

In response to his entrance she grabbed a towel hung nearby. He watched her silently, watching her muscle flex and relax just slightly. He always seemed to do that, notice when she was tense.

Suddenly, he smiles brightly and it's like someone let sunshine into the room. She tries hard to defeat these feelings but she cocks her head just slightly. His smile is contagious; she matches it with a very small, grudging smile of his own. Her look is sad and adoring.

Mostly sad, he notices. "You're always on guard when you know I have to leave." His observation hangs a little loosely in the air, like he was longing for a response but already aware of the fact that she wasn't apt to give one. She's wrapping the towel around her body, not meeting his gaze like she wouldn't look at her body.

In an instant his hands are on her shoulders, his fingers are extended such that his little fingers rest tantalizingly close to the base of her neck. She's amazed just slightly at him, entirely, and at all of the characteristics that collectively formulate the concept of Son Goku.

"Goku," She says finally, drawing his name out just slightly. He frowns at the uncertain inflection in her tone. And she is still not looking at him. "I know why you're going."

"Please don't think of it as me leaving you. You know why I'm going." He repeats what she says with earnest in his eyes. He is pleading with her to not be hurt, and he knows that it is unfair, but only in this moment. "I have to go to protect you." He says this quietly, solemnly even.

"To protect the entire planet, Goku." She amends his words carefully. With a hand keeping the towel to her breast, she puts her other on his cheek. It is both cool and smooth. For a second she thinks of Adonis. She struggles not to cry in front of him. "That's why you have to fight. So you had better win."

His eyes are on fire. They are ablaze with determination and something like devotion for his wife. Solemnly does he nod at her, a solid affirmation of his dedication. This is the only time that she has matched his eyes tonight. She secures his promise.

She does not ask for him to return. She only asks him to win. "And keep my son safe."

His hand rests on her hand, holding it just slightly closer to his jaw before he presses her dainty fingers to his chest, "I swear I will let no harm come to Gohan, ChiChi. I swear to you." Her fingertips feel his heart beating. They extend up towards his clavicle, and she marvels at the bone and muscle that composed her husband.

She does not insist that he comes home once the battle is over and done with. She has not made this request since the first time he died and she realized that she had truly married the most noble, true man on Earth. Something seemed fitting about the fact he wasn't even human. Friends would remark on how it was bizarre, and yet she felt like she knew a golden truth.

She is both angry and hurt that her husband is leaving her and potentially not returning. Potentially, she could scoff to think of it. His death is almost guaranteed these days. She is both ashamed and afraid and he just keeps smiling down at her with those eyes. He has told her that there is no way for him to win, and when she cries and pleads deep into the night for him to not leave he is gentle and loving when he merely replies with, "_but I have to," _like it's some simple, unmovable truth. Like its destiny waiting to be fulfilled yet again.

Warm and infinite, she must acknowledge her love for him and force it become pure and noble as well. She must will herself to behave. Because he is strong, she must be strong. She must summon all of the strength within herself and find a way to tell him goodbye.

He's going to battle tomorrow, and still she sees that little glossy look in his eyes. She sits on the corner of the bed a little heavily. "You don't have to lie to me you know, Goku." She says, crossing her arms over her chest and closing her eyes as she bows her head. She appears slightly in thought. She recognizes his eagerness so easily at it. At the confused look on his face, she informs him, "You know, I know you're excited."

Goku glanced down at her. It's the most adorable thing in the world to him, when his wife pouts. She does it in the most dignified way, there's something about her he will never stop respecting. She's stiff and cute all at once, what a feat! What a woman. And yet still he stands before her, asking her to let him leave when he already knew the answer. It almost seemed unfair to ask. He knew she would give way, because she loved him so much, because she respected what he stood for, and because she understood him truly and completely. Still he stood before her, asking for her only son. Mentally he slaps himself. How can she tell? How does she know that he, yes, tingled everywhere in excitement at the prospect of a fresh new foe? An opponent stronger than any other he has faced, think of it! Imagine.

At the guilty look on his face, she says, "It's okay, you know." Again, his expression is confused. "It's in your nature," She adds, tilting her head to watch something unimportant off to the side very intently. She avoids his gaze and wins the battle of the wills. He cannot make her look at him no matter how hard his obsidian orbs set on her. Foes across the galaxy have trembled at his glance, but he cannot make his wife look at him.

So instead he begins to soak in the image of her: pale skin and rosy cheeks, perfect posture combined with dignified resignation. He is full of compromises like this. Everything in her seemed just a little depressed. It is overwhelming to see her like this. Usually she has a fire like no other. Now she has an ocean in her eyes ready to pour out on to her pillow the second he steps foot out of the house the following morning.

And he can see this. And it is consuming, like a large wave. How she still managed to conquer him in her own ways. He had no way of ever imagining on his wedding day that he would have been committing the most selfish action he ever would in his entire life. He married his young and beautiful bride only to die on her, leave her for the battlefield countless times and worst of all he had given her a son that he could not leave her with either.

_You're a great mother, ChiChi, _he suddenly thinks of saying. But somehow it seems inappropriate. He should have said it. She would have smiled at those words, and maybe that would have been the greatest victory of all.

She is consumed in her own thoughts like he is consumed in her. She is thinking of him, though. She is considering how much she loves him, and how much she does not want him to leave. She is making excuses for him, though. She is saying, very sternly to herself, _You knew he was a martial artist when you met him. You knew he would always be looking for someone else to fight. _But she had no way of knowing that he was going to take her son with him. She was naïve when she thought that she'd settled the matters years ago.

"Gohan…" She said, suddenly. They sort of stumbled out because she didn't want to talk about Goku's impending death anymore, mostly. She was afraid she would ask him not to go, or worse, to come back alive. "Just, remember that he's still a boy." She rests her face in her hands a little. These words are getting more and more difficult to come out, no matter how composed the thoughts sound in her head. Her body twitches in an awkward way. He can tell she is gritting her teeth behind her hands and face, and she is trying very hard to not cry but her feelings are literally _leaking _out of her. Look at her self-control, he thinks. This is how dignified she insists upon being. But ChiChi is continuing to force herself to speak despite the physical discomfort gathering about her form and soul. "He's _not _like that, Gokou."

At first he disregards this idea. He doesn't mean to not respect her opinion, but he thinks he knows better. He's seen his son progress over the years. He's watched his son fight and show extraordinary potential. He compares Gohan to himself, almost on a natural and implicit level. Gohan is his son, therefore he must feel the same way about fighting. The logic follows itself cleverly and simply. He swallows down the thought that Gohan is probably stronger than he is at this point, that if he fails Gohan will survive and defeat the enemy. He tries to not be contrary. He nods at her words.

She can tell he's not registering them. She can sense his insincerity. He's not _good _at insincerity. She opts to try again. "Goku, he's a human too. His heart is softer than yours is."

Goku frowns at this just a little bit. He is paying more attention to the words she is saying, but mostly beginning to feel defensive. What about his heart? Again he thinks ChiChi is wrong about Gohan.

"Just because he has strength does not mean that he feels compelled to test it and use it the way you do." She is continuing. Maybe talking about Gohan is not so easy anymore. There are some things that she does not think Gokou could ever possibly understand. It's not for lack of trying. Suddenly the space between the two in the room seems to be a gaping hole. It's oppressive and thick.

Gokou frowns at this as well. "It's not like this is some vacation for me, Chi."

"This isn't about you," She says, a little harshly. Immediately she feels remorse. It's too late, he's been stung by her words. She can see it in his eyes, for they are wide and open and expressive.

"I see," He says, a little slowly. He sucks in air. "Well, I'm going to miss you." He says this ambiguously. She does not know if he means in heaven, or on the battlefield. What she does not know is that tailing his remark, he was hoping to hear that she would miss him too.

She is covered with grief at the prospect of her husband's death. "This isn't about me, either." Her words are quiet because they are covered with tears. Still her face is dry. He almost want to tell her to cry, to just let it out, but he knows from experience that she would rather him not remark upon her emotion at all.

Goku watches her silently for a while. His wife has her arms crossed around each other, but she's holding her arms. She's in this half-embrace with herself, as though trying to both console herself and hold herself back. "Why can't it be about us, then?" He asks this quietly.

Despite herself she loves the sound of his voice as it rings through the silent and thick air. Her emotions are spilling out onto the floor and splashing on the walls but he pretends not to notice for her sake. She cannot handle the mention of their relationship. But he knows the question she wants to ask.

"Don't you understand I'm going to fall apart without you?" She asks, looking at her bare knees. She feels something hot and wet on them. Little drops are falling on them. They're falling from her face. She feels dizzy and unwell. She feels hot and spinny and like she's convulsing just a little bit.

Gokou sits down next to her. He lifts his arm and she, wet hair and all, slides in to his embrace. She leans into his chest. Her tears are suddenly uncontrollable. She has never known this sort of pain in her chest and she cannot regain control.

He's been holding her for a while. The crying subsides. Still something about her seems devastated and this disturbs him. He cannot tell her that he won't die. He can only gently rub her back. He feels the dampness of her flesh. After all these years it is soft and smooth and smells faintly of lavender.

She sits up, finally. "I'm sorry. Forgive me." She says quietly. He can feel every muscle in her tighten.

He frowns. "Please don't feel bad about showing emotion in front of me." It is as if he is asking something from her that is very, very great. He does not want her to feel like she has to be his ironed down, stoic wife. And yet she has thrust these responsibilities upon herself.

Still she is back on her feet, straightening her towel as she prepares to dress herself. She moves behind a screen. He resists the urge to tell her that he's seen her naked a million times. He knows she will only respond modestly. She seems too fragile to bother and he is afraid that she will shatter if he upsets her. He feels even more guilt as he considers the idea, he upsets her. So often it seems that he upsets her, and yet she says she will fall apart without him. He feels the need to protect her from the truth, from the future looming darkly over their heads and their bed, but she is such a realist that she has already focused her energy on coming to terms with it.

She amazes him just a little bit. His lips spread as he gazes at the painted flowers, and her silhouette. He sees the towel drop and grins a little bit to himself. With mischievous eyes, and hands, and lips, he sneaks up behind her. She seems a tiny bit exasperated and pulls her nightdress to her naked body.

"Goku, I-"

He cuts her off with a kiss, rejecting the tenseness of the night. He just wants to enjoy her. He just wants to savor her. He does not want to admit that this is his last night, because along with that seemingly comes the idea that he accepts defeat, but he also wants to remember what he is fighting for. He also wants to remember what it is he loves and cannot bear to lose. What it is he must protect, what it is that makes him the man that he is.

He does not want to make her sad. He does not want to lie to her. He simply wants the uncomfortable part of the evening to pass, and he wants to taste his wife. When she feels his arms wrap around her body, and she takes in his scent again, and she feels her warm body pressed firmly against his, she melts just slightly.

"Turn off the light," She says, in a barely audible whisper. His lips are already on her neck, his hands are running over her clavicle and down her back. She feels consumed by his goodness, and something warm buzzes in her belly. Butterflies, she thinks. She smiles despite herself, and it is the most genuine he has seen from her in a very long while. It is contagious. He smiles down at her.

Gokou is no ordinary lover.

Mischievous smile again.

"Goku, the light-"

"Shh." He's almost stern.

The light flicks off.

A grin.

He is standing in front of her without his shirt on. She seemed to not take much notice at all to the weight of his shirt when she removed it. Some kind of wife he had, so strong and yet beautiful. Love and admiration swell for her in his chest. He can tell that in the darkness she is staring at his muscular chest.

Some part of him purrs at this. With a bit of a grin he forms a ball of energy. It floats over their heads and then makes it to the center of the room. Everything is softly illuminated. He can see her frown up at him. "Shh." He says again, cupping her chin in his hands. He leans in, resting his lips on hers softly. The kiss is so light it sends chills down her body and back up again. Still he affects her body in the strangest ways. It's just the way that she reacts to him.

"I want to see you, Chi. I have to." He both murmurs and whines this into her neck. Already his hands are enjoying her body. His lips find hers once more and this time her arms slip around his neck. Her legs wrap around his waist. He carries her to his bed.

Her hair falls loose to her shoulders. Although damp he takes the scent in. Something warm and familiar strokes his heart. Her raven locks contrast beautifully with her porcelain skin and sprawl across the pillow. His lips find their way down from her neck to the valley of her breasts, and still further across her flat abdomen and round hips.

Still does he remember the moments that he would feel her stomach when she was pregnant, enthralled every single time that Gohan would kick. The beautiful son they made together.

He watches her sweat, her long lashes flutter in ecstasy, her cherry lips pucker and part in passion and agony all at once. Nothing is sexier to him than the sound of her rapid breathing, the soft, slightly suppressed moans emitted from her throat. He wants nothing more than her complete and utter pleasure, because despite everything she still stands by him, she understands him, she loves him. This is not about what he owes her, it is about what he wants her to have.

They do not have to agree together about everything: they have something greater than that. Their relationship is rich and complex. They are but two pieces to something much greater.

She feels like there is a god in her bed. He is just happy to be there, in her arms and in her bed. He wants to feel every bit of her. He wants to feel entwined with her entirely before he must leave, to have something to remember. He wants something to hold on to that seems endless and eternal. She is so good and her love is so pure, and he sees something beautiful in her as they join together in the deep twilight. And, in the midst of it all, she feels her eyes tearing up at the beauty of their love-making. She allows herself, without same, these tears because she is so moved at their love. And he watches her with this curious smile, head cocked just slightly to the side as he watches intently. He is in awe of her beauty, and sentimentality, and capacity for adoration. How powerful ChiChi's love is! An inspiration, just when he needed it!

They spend the whole night worshipping each other.

* * *

She's lying in bed because she doesn't feel like there's anything else worth doing at the moment. She wants to force herself to get up and carry on like nothing is wrong. She wants to turn on the news but she knows that this is the calm before the storm.

Her mind is consumed with worry, and yet again she could sense the excitement in her husband and the nervousness in her young son. She kissed him on the cheek and held him by the shoulders as she embraced her young son for the last time. He would grow up again, just a little bit more, and be exposed to a darkness no mother would wish upon her son. She must face this reality all morning and afternoon and on until the dreadful afternoon is over, and on as her son becomes a man before her eyes and before his time. It was remarkable to her how much like her husband he was. And yet still she could sense the softness in his heart, that which her husband could not detect. Gohan had no desire to bring harm to anything. He fought because he had to. Not for the thrill of it or to get stronger.

Not that her husband was some power hungry freak, but he had the blood of a warrior. He looked forward to the challenge. He embraced battle. Second nature type thing of Goku's, and it had always been that way. Something about Gokou was still so young.

ChiChi sighed, closing her eyes as she lay on her back.

He's just a darling little boy to her, in some ways still. And boys just want to have fun. She thinks these things so sadly, she is locked in her own melancholy for a while. She wants to see anyone and she feels light as though she may pass out.

She didn't want to admit how much she hated herself when her eyelids detected the morning sun peering through the shades. She knew her husband must sleep. He would be tired. And yet he smiled, encouraging, he kissed the sweat from her brow, he whispered in her ear and then licked the tip of her earlobe affectionately.

She also didn't want to admit the tiniest bit of jealousy that she felt. It was kind of ridiculous that she would want to keep him all to herself, anyway. It didn't matter how much she chided herself or hugged his shirt. The feelings wouldn't escape her no matter how much she willed herself to be strong like Gokou.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

Who was he to make that choice for the both of them, to be the infallible hero while she was thrust into the role of devoted martyr wife? After all, every time Goku slinked off like this with that smile placed on his lips, all he was really saying was '_Aw, I'm sorry, Chi… I just really need you to take one for the team.' _

_

* * *

_

Life after Goku's death was something else. She felt like a part of her died for a while. About three months. Then she started to show.

"Oh, God." Chichi held her head. She got dizzy. It's weird that she would cry out to God these days, given the idea that he husband was likely more powerful than God (or at least some of them). She can hear the clock ticking loudly, even though time has stopped to her. She didn't want to feel like her life was over, she just did. She can feel the balance and sound of time, but she cannot entirely grasp it's fabric anymore. Everything has sort of slowed down, like something melting in the sweltering sun on a summer day. Speaking of, it was getting awfully hard to breathe-

She passed out.

"Mother!" Gohan was looking at her, his face filled with panic. He knew his mother would take his father's death hard, but he had no idea what to do. Poor little son of theirs! He was losing both of his parents despite all of the physical strength that he had.

Gohan was sitting over her, watching her intently, and much to her surprise, when she came to she saw Piccolo standing in the corner looking less concerned but focused nevertheless. When her eyes widened in outrage and surprise, he held his arms up in peace, "Gohan came to get me when he saw that you'd passed out to help." He always reminded her of a goblin, with his green skin and sharp nails.

"Okay." She consented, nodding a little bit. "Gohan, honey, go get me some water." Gohan looked uncomfortable, like he didn't quite know what to do. Like it would be a nightmare to leave Piccolo and ChiChi alone together and the last thing he wanted was more stress.

Piccolo nodded to him. Gohan left. The room was silent for a while, and still. ChiChi, in company of such a creature as Piccolo, became aware of everything around her. Talk about tense. Piccolo coughed a little bit, feeling more awkward than ever in lieu of ChiChi's most apparent disdain for him.

"I know it must be hard for you, ChiChi, but this doesn't have to be bad news." He's almost offering the words to her, testing out being consoling. Bitterly, he decides it doesn't look good on him. He damns Son, his friend, comrade and ally, for the millionth time in the past hour. Currently the reason is because now he must endure this.

ChiChi held her face in her hands. "I just don't know how I'll do it alone." She can think straight now that she doesn't have to see Piccolo.

"Doing what alone?" Gohan asked, approaching her timidly from behind with water in hand. The steps he takes towards his mother are long and hard.

ChiChi bites her lip. "Gohan, I'm pregnant." She didn't know how to say the words to him, or if he would understand the weight of her announcement. She didn't mean for it to sound cold or unaffectionate, but somehow it seemed more tragic to her.

Gohan's eyes widen. He kind of smiles, "You mean I'm going to be a big brother?" Soon, his eyes are glittering up all black and shiny. He looks like a bundle of excitement, no matter how old she realizes he's gotten, he managed to retain that innocence and happiness. Internally, she remembers to be thankful to her husband, for at least he kept his promise. Gohan's jumping up and down, repeating the words over and over again, "Brother! Brother! I'm going to be a big brother!" He's thinking of doing all the things with his brother that his dad did with him. Gohan's going to do everything with his little brother that he so rarely seemed to have time to do with his dad.

ChiChi nods. Her eyes are tearing up again, although this time Piccolo could see that Gohan's sudden excitement was contagious.

He slipped out the back silently. The baby was a shock to ChiChi, but he knew that Gohan was all the help that ChiChi needed. He felt a small smile form on his lips as he looked back at the finally contented little house. He could still hear Gohan's enthusiasm.

Gohan was bouncing around asking questions. "Can you feel it kicking?"

"Are we going to share a room?"

"Is Grandpa coming to live with us?"

ChiChi smiled at him, ruffling his hair a little bit. Night has fallen and she has answered all of his questions, mostly to Gohan's satisfaction, and he is snug in his bed. She's half-holding herself, half-embracing herself as she strolls around outside. She's feeling the breeze of the evening on her almost bare shoulders, and she's feeling vulnerable, but strangely that's alright for the first time in a long time.

Somehow, she finds strength in embracing the very idea that yes, her situation was difficult. The thought that immediately follows:_ but I shall move on, I shall survive. _She feels inspired, by her son and her husband, and she laughs a little bit as she leans back to embrace the sky and the dark clouds overhead. "You must be so proud of yourself, Gokou! Either that," She shakes her head a little, scoffing and laughing all at once, "Or you're completely oblivious. I wish I knew which it was."

She' sort of examining the landscape now, the trees, and how if she squinted she could see even in the darkness the tree that Goku wrote their names on. "Well, Goku, I guess I can't really do this that much anymore, dwell on you." She's crossing the little path, looking over her shoulder as if he were actually present and protesting her. "I have another son now to take care of, a daughter or a son of ours," She says this very modestly. And yet she seems like a teacher pacing before her imagined audience.

Lightening coughs in the distance. It is a mere warning, she thinks. She pays no mind to it and continues walking. She is getting deeper in the forest, surrounded by shades of green and the sounds of sleeping creatures.

"But I guess I have to admit something to you," She says suddenly. "I guess, you know now that I know that our child is going to be half, well, whatever you are, Saiya-Jin?, I never really did, you know, understand…" She's rambling a little bit, wringing her hands. She is uncertain as to whether or not she can say the words that she wants to. But she thinks of her husband's strength and she continues down her path. "You see, I guess if they want to fight, or train, they ought to. I mean, it's how you were as a boy. But I tell you, I still don't think Gohan wants to keep training. It will be completely up to him, even though I still don't know how I feel about that… Piccolo." See? She's already becoming so familiar with his world, even though it found more and more ways to isolate her.

His life changed so very much when he became a Saiya-Jin, or realized his power and became a Super? Saiya-Jin on Namek, and she felt increasingly alienated from it. Who takes well to learning their husband is an alien of remarkable strength? Her husband had all of these terms and friends and foes, it got confusing and jumbled up in her head no matter how she tried to participate. Not that he really ever had time to explain anything to her, but from what she understood from it all he was an alien living on Earth that could turn himself blonde (signifying a dramatic increase in ki, no doubt, although it was very literal and overwhelming) on demand. He was _already _remarkable. Adonis comes to mind again. She knew to expect great things, he had, after all, achieved so much during his childhood. Somehow the truth seemed so bizarre it was hard to grasp.

"Goku," She addressed him, again. "I know you think I'm crazy, but I just know we'll meet each other again. On Earth. And you will meet your child. And when you do," She smiles and feels something wet on her cheeks. The droplets are not her tears. She hears thunder boom and purr, and the lightening is nearer. Vaguely she wonders if it's going to be a bad storm, for it seems like it's rather close to her home.

"When you do," Her voice is reduced to a whisper and yet it remains prominent in the forest evening, even in the midst of natural chaos, "you will be so proud! Gohan is going to make such a wonderful brother, Goku." This idea genuinely makes ChiChi so pleased that she claps her hands together with a brilliant smile. The juxtaposition of joy and downpour go together well enough, as her hair soon pools down her shoulders, too heavy to stay in her trademark bun. "So now, I don't want you to think I've forgotten about you," And somehow she sounds like she's a teenager again, uncertain of herself or if her words are coming out right. "But I can't mourn your death so obstinately when I'm so preoccupied preparing for our child's birth. I hope you understand."

ChiChi turns. She has said what she needed to, and somehow, sooner or later Goku would get the message. It would be waiting for him, in the wind. "I hope you understand that we're so sad that you've left, and we miss you every day, but we are embracing the future, because it's the promise of the future that makes all of this worth it. We are, after all…"

An image of the Son household, warm and ready for ChiChi to return and experience true slumber and peace for the first time in what felt like, and could possibly have been, years. The moon was hanging brightly and even radiantly in the sky and the storm seemed to subside to a gentle pouring rain, consistent but not frightful. The dampness of the leaves made everything seem so much more lush and organic about her. She was so surrounded by life, and beauty, and love. She closed the door behind her very gently. She did not want to wake her son, her gentle and loving son, guaranteed to be smiling in his sleep still. She sees the water dripping from her dress, and flesh, and hair to the floor but somehow it doesn't seem necessary to clean up just yet. She is smiling, too. She is smiling because she is filled with one last thought, consumed by it, really. So much so that she says it candidly in the darkness, determined that heaven should at least grant that these last seven words reach her husband's ears, if none of her others should:

"…_Just waiting to see you again, someday." _

* * *

_-CL _


End file.
